


Kindled

by CountvonKit



Series: Kindled [1]
Category: Octopath Traveler (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2019-11-28 22:41:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18214616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CountvonKit/pseuds/CountvonKit
Summary: His name is Cyrus, and he is a scholar. Upon a mysterious request he has been sent to the Frostlands to retrieve another missing book. Reputation from his last journey has only grown since having returned. With few clues given, more information is required. He decides a stop in Flamesgrace might be best. It is there he visits an former traveling companion.Her name is Ophilia, and she is a cleric. Upon tending to the duties of the church since journey’s last end, time has passed all too quickly in the blink of an eye. Though it has been but a few years, her smile seems to have fallen behind the duties of the Sacred Flame. However, it has not turned its back on her. As but a reward for her faith and hard work, an unexpected visit from a former traveling companion just so happens to be just what she needed. Maybe more than she realized.





	1. The Unexpected Guest

The path from the Flatlands was no trouble, Cyrus remembered thinking. But once the snow of the Frostlands began to flutter on down, he found himself quick to think otherwise. 

The man gave a sigh, watching as his hot breath disappeared, stolen by the bitter winds. ‘I wonder how much further ‘til I hit Flamesgrace,’ he pondered while bundling up in his Scholar’s robe. Even with the hood lined in fur, it didn’t appear to offer much more warmth. The Frostlands were unforgiving in their prime. ‘I don’t quite recall it being so far away…’ 

Then again, it had been a few years since everyone’s journey came to an end.

What a bittersweet memory it was just thinking back; One last party at a tavern to celebrate, then split into groups of two the next day to journey on home. A hard day, but still one filled with utter joy. Eight people with nothing in common other than a journey with no certain end in sight, and yet they stuck together and supported each other, developing irreplaceable friendships and memories held dear. 

He paused in his tracks, looking the area over once again. Towering cliffs coated in snow stretched from either side, glistening from his lantern’s light reflected. It should have been a straight path, or so he thought. Had the landscaped changed any since he last ventured this way? Mayhaps if the jötunn felt obligated to do so, but not very likely.

‘Could it be possible I’ve taken a wrong turn?’ Cyrus drew his hand up, shutting his eyes briefly to think. ‘Or could it be that _someone_ has turned the signs around on me? That someone being perhaps a delinquent.’ He gave a firm nod in approval. Of course. That had to be the very reason why he was lost. Someone simply switched the signs on him, perhaps even scribbling over them. How shameful such vandalism was. He nodded again and again as his misassumption played out. 

“When I find whoever did this, they can expect to get a stern talking to—”

Sharp winds kicked on by, pulling him from such scholarly concentration.

He could only frown to himself. Signs or no signs, it wasn’t going to do him any good now. If only he had remembered to pack a map.

“I suppose there’s no use in beating myself up over what I should have done,” he muttered. “I’ve come too far already to simply turn back around. I’ll just have to rely on my memory. Pray that fortune smiles upon me.”

Pulling the robe around him as tight as he could, Cyrus braced himself and pushed on forth—onward towards what he hoped would eventually be the steps of Flamesgrace.

 

Candle flames flickered, their kind and gentle light dancing across the cathedral walls as Ophilia focused hard on her prayers, doing her best to ignore the howling winds that shook such a grand monument. At her side, her best friend and sister Lianna, did much the same. With the two of them leading the church towards greater things, surely the flame would hear them out.

For protection. For warmth. For wellness. And for strength to carry on what was expected of them. May the Scared Flame never falter.

Opening an eye, Lianna peered curiously over to Ophilia, a smile crawling forth. Since having returned from her pilgrimage, her sister seemed noticeably different somehow; mature and stronger. Perhaps it had been the Flame playing tricks on the eyes that day, a way of saying that it had been far too long since they had seen one another. Lianna wouldn’t deny the happiness and relief that washed over her heart as Ophilia walked in through the door of the cathedral. The day she returned was one of the best things to happen in Flamesgrace, one Lianna remembered most fondly. 

Ophilia opened her eyes, turning her head slightly to see her sister staring her way. “Is something the matter, Anna?”

Lianna gave another smile, shaking her head. “Not at all, Philie. I was simply remembering the day the Flame guided you back to us from your pilgrimage.”

The both of them stood, Ophilia giving a smile in return.

“Are you sure that is all?”

The both of them giggled.

“Of course,” Lianna replied. 

“I don’t think any snowbank could have prepared me for how quick you were to tackle, Anna. Faster than any creature that crossed my path you were.”

Lianna cast her gaze bashfully. “What’s a sister to say? I was worried, after all.” A paused slipped in between her words before she could finish what it was she wanted to say. “…We all were...”

“The Flame guided me through the pilgrimage, and the Flame guided me back home,” Ophilia noted, taking her sister’s hand and giving it a playful swing. “You have nothing to worry of now.”

“Correction, Philie,” Lianna said, soft laugh quick to follow. “Our worries rest on what we should have for dinner.”

The blonde stared back to her sister. What she spoke of was indeed most true. What would they have for dinner tonight? The winds gave another monstrous howl, shaking the cathedral stronger than the last. It was only then an idea was bestowed onto Ophilia. “Well,” she began, “it’s been some time since we’ve had it. How about some carrot soup to warm both heart and soul?”

“That sounds most excellent, Philie!” Her sister answered, clasping both hands together.

The two exchanged smiles once more along with a laugh, their feet carrying them towards the kitchen.

“Race you, Philie! Last one there is a jötunn!”

A frown was quick to slide across Ophilia’s face at the sudden challenge her sister had initiated. 

“Lianna! We are not children anymore! We should not run in the Cathedral! Father would surely cast a frown upon us from the Flame’s watchful gaze!” 

“Oh no! The transformation is already beginning!” Lianna let out another laugh, pushing on ahead, leaving Ophilia to sigh in the dusty tracks. All she could do was hope to gain speed. 

Admittedly, a jötunn was the last thing she wished to be.

 

They piled into the kitchen, exhausted and gasping for air as hands and knees hit the floor. 

“You’re certainly a good runner, Philie,” Lianna wheezed.

“You might… say that…” Ophilia replied. She wanted to smile against her pounding chest, her thoughts drifting back to the many times her and her friends had to flee from monsters and other danger. Grand days long passed by as they learned what adventuring truly meant, but she dare not tell her sister that—least not now. These were tales for another time. Perhaps maybe even the more humorous ones, like when Olberic was showing Tressa and Therion how to use provoke and accidentally provoked a Gargantuan Boar into attacking camp. That was certainly a day to remember…

Forcing herself to her feet, Ophilia guided herself towards the cabinets, taking a pot and placing it onto the stove. Lianna came up beside her, water and chicken stock in hand, setting them onto the counter with a soft hum. 

“Say, Ophilia,” Lianna began.

“Hm?” The blonde looked to her sister while turning on the stove. “What is it, Anna?”

As Lianna made way to the fridge for some butter, her curiosity followed through with a question. “When you were on your pilgrimage, did you ever cook for your friends?”

Ophilia gave a smile, her gaze falling to the heating pot as her sister returned to her side. The kitchen seemed to hold a draft neither had ever paid much attention to in the passing years, the two of them huddling around the stove for warmth. The butter gave a soft sizzle as it was added in, allowing the blonde to absorb the question despite knowing the answer well. 

“I did, yes.”

“What did you make for them?”

“Mm…” There was a pause that wedged its way between her answer as she sorted through the many memories held dear. All the meals ate together, both simple and not. All the laughter, the dancing, the celebrating… The warmth from her smile only grew, overshadowing the small nip of saddens that hide behind her heart. “More often than not, stew; simply because of our number and how lightweight ingredients were to carry. Meals were the least of our worries if anything.” She looked to her sister, brows furrowing from the sudden questions. “Why do you ask?”

Lianna grinned. “Just curious. You don’t talk much about them much anymore.”

“I don’t…?”

Her sister gave another hum, gathering up some herbs for seasoning as Ophilia added in a drop of oil. “Not for quite some time. You used to share tales from back then just about every night before bed, you know.”

Now that it had been brought to her attention, Ophilia realized the truth to her sister’s word. When was the last time she shared such tales?

“Say, Philie? Don’t you ever think of going to visit them? I’m sure they miss you.”

Ophilia lifted her head. Shameful as it was to admit, she really hadn’t given it much thought at all since having returned home. How long had it even been…? 

“Er…” Her umber gaze fell back to the soup as it began pulling together. “We’ve been so busy with the church lately that I suppose it hadn’t really crossed my mind…”

Lianna returned once again to her side, carrots in hand. “Philie,” her voice began, soft and almost in whisper. “You know I can handle the duties of the church too, right? I did so the last time you ventured across Osterra. If you need to take a break, or wish to go see your friends, you’re more than welcome to. You just need to let me know. I’m not going to tell you what you can and can’t do. And if the time doesn’t seem opportune, write them a letter or something. Sure protecting the flame is important, but…” Lianna gave a gentle tap on the center of Ophilia’s chest before continuing, “protecting the flame here is just as important.”

Before the blonde could answer, the kitchen door was thrown open in a whirlwind of panic. The two of them whipped their heads to see one of the nuns in the doorway, practically breathless. 

“Ophilia… Lianna…!”

Dropping everything, the two ran up to her.

“Whatever is the matter, sister?” Ophilia was quick to ask. 

“Do you need to sit down?” Lianna asked, ushering her towards a chair. “What is with the urgency? Do we have a guest? Is someone in town hurt?”

Accepting the offer to sit for a moment, the nun gave a nod, her older body feeling the winter aches. “Yes, sister Lianna. Someone requests help right away.” She reached out for Ophilia’s hands, given them a firm grip. “I’m afraid the matter is most urgent, he said. He requested your presence immediately, sister Ophilia. Please hurry.”

Panic laced Ophilia’s eyes, her head buzzing with a plague of questions as she took a step back. Even in the hesitation that made her heart waver, she did what Ophilia did best in moments like these: She gave her brightest and most truest smile. 

“Understood, sister. I shall not keep him waiting any longer.”

 

With haste she exited the room, running down the twists and turns of the halls lit solely by dying candles and directly towards the main hall. As she stopped to look around, Ophilia couldn’t help but notice one important thing: no one was there. 

“That’s strange…” She muttered to herself, drawing up a hand. “Did he wander off maybe…?” Her eyes continued to scan around the room, until a loud knock pulled her undivided attention.

“Is someone there?”

As if answering her question, another knock followed suit against the towering cathedral doors, sounding weaker than the last.

She let out a gasp. “Did he not come inside!?”

Her feet swiftly carried her towards the doors, panic thrashing against her chest. Why would he not step inside, she asked herself. The nuns were always quick to offer the shelter of the church. Without question, and without judgement. Nothing about any of this made sense to her.

As she pulled open the doors, she could have sworn her heart shot straight up into her throat at the familiar figure who stood before her there in the cold.

“Pr-professor…!?”

A humble laugh passed through his pale and icy lips as he forced that iconic smile of his. “…Ophilia,” he began, “it’s good to see you again…” His gaze fell to the polished tiles, watching the flames dance against them for a moment. He half expected her to lecture him right then and there on having traveled in such dangerous conditions, but she didn't. At least not yet.

Something wasn’t right.

Ophilia stared for a moment, leaning into the door. Usually he were much more energetic than this; all smiles and talking. Experiencing silence from Cyrus of all people was... strange—worrisome. But that was something she could ask him about later.

"Ah! Please hurry and come in. I have little doubt you must be cold." 

Hesitation lingered before he forced himself to take a step inside, the man stumbling forward and into Ophilia who quickly caught him.

“…Professor?” 

Ophilia frowned to herself as she did her best to hold the man up. At first she thought he were simply tired and weary from his travels. All things considered, the Flatlands were quite a ways from the Frostlands, and having to travel in conditions like these… Surely it were no easy task. But after feeling the chill emanating from his frost-bitten coat, Ophilia realized it had nothing to do with that. If this had been back in their days of traveling, she’d have sworn he had been caught up with a Snow Drake. Her heart swayed yet again.

“Ar-are you alright? You don’t look well…” There was urgency in her voice as his body grew heavier against hers.

“It’s… cold…” He exhaled. “Sleep sounds… wonderful.” His voice was becoming softer, almost fluttered mumbles of short, hot breaths against her skin.

It was then Ophilia realized what was going on.

“Professor Albright! Please stay awake! Focus! Focus on me!” 

“I do hope… you’ve been well, Ophilia…”

"Stay with me!"

Even his last conscious laugh, forced as it was, resonated the fatigue his body held. Before Cyrus shut his eyes, he whispered out, "...I'd quite like that..."

Ophilia turned to look down the halls she once raced through. "Lianna," she called out. "Lianna, come quick! I need your assistance!" 

Her heart grew heavier from panic as she gripped tighter onto his coat. How was it that the halls remained empty? The cathedral was always filled with people. Why, of all times when help was needed most, was no one there? Feeling the strength giving in her legs, she could only hope that someone would arrive sooner than later. Before she fell to the floor with Cyrus atop her, she let out another call for her dear sister. May the Sacred Flame deliver her plea. Swiftly.


	2. Reasons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Cyrus waking, there are many questions Ophilia holds in regards to the professor's sudden arrival. She can't help but wonder if his quest for the missing book is a wild goose chase or not, but knowing it's a request from Tressa, there is no way she can pass up the chance to help. The real question at hand is where do they even begin?

Click, click. Click, click. Click, click.

The sound of heels against the palace floors sang harmoniously as Cyrus paced back and forth. He was caught up in what appeared to be a history book— _another_ history book if anything, all about Osterra and titled about something in regards to the old gods. Literature such as this fascinated him to no end. He was without a doubt a man of books. Brows furrowed, he turned another page, falling deeper into the arms of what many might consider dry and dull. For him, however, the world created by books, structured by one’s own experience or imagination and woven by language—why that was the greatest gift of all.

‘Yes, yes,’ he thought, firm nod following suit. ‘Of course! How did I _not_ see that before!? Brilliant! Yes! Everything within this deduction checks out! The facts are clearly there! Genius! Pure genius!’ 

The smirk on his face grew the more impressed he became by the author’s connections, his chest swelling with the eagerness to share such theories. Drawing up a hand, he gently tapped at his forehead, as if to mentally gesture his iconic line, “But of course!”

He paused his stroll momentarily to shut the book, a sigh of relief escaping. Such literature really did bring him warmth and fulfillment. Smirk then turned to a smile of utter satisfaction. The thought of sharing this with his students and then hearing them discuss the material… Yes. Most wonderful. Just as he went to peer up ahead Cyrus squinted his eyes, taking notice to something flying his way and fast. With little room for time to react, he was hit square in the face and sent down onto the floor with a loud thud.

_Pain…_

“Hello~! Earth to Professor Albright!”

_Why the nerve…_

Cyrus reached for what hit his face, lifting the object up to see it was a mere leather-bound book. Expressions of offense washed over him. Who would ever dare consider throwing such a beautiful thing?! Propping himself up, he immediately directed his harsh gaze towards where it had flown from.

“Hm?”

His brows merely furrowed as his vision adjusted. 

“…Tressa? Do my eyes deceive me…? Tressa, is that really you?”

The young girl drew up a hand to cover her mouth, snicker fleeing as she looked away. Some things never changed. “Or should I say ‘Professor-are-you-Alright’?”

He frowned to this, eventually making way back onto his feet and dusting himself off as she approached. “It’s certainly been a while, Tressa. Though if you needed me, perhaps simply calling a name would have been more efficient, hm? And… maybe a bit less painful.”

“I did.” Her voice went flat, far from amused, as did her stare as she looked back to the oblivious man before her.

He flinched. “D-did you really?”

“Only about a hundred times…”

“Er…” He could only offer a sigh to this, hanging his head in shame. “Then I must apologize, Tressa. It seems I was too engrossed in this book to hear you. I really am sorry about that. It was not intentional that I ignore you.” 

Tressa could only roll her eyes to this. He hadn’t changed at all, she mentally breathed. At the same time, however, she couldn’t help but feel relieved by the whole situation. Sometimes change was bad. Admittedly, she didn’t want him to change at all. Despite some who might get frustrated at such an air-headed trait, sometimes it was also the most endearing. And if anything, that was definitely a trait their whole group admired most about him. Especially Ophilia.

‘Ophilia…!’ The young girl blinked, remembering the reason why she was here. ‘Right! I can’t forget!’

Offering a quick smile, Tressa rubbed the back of her head, letting out a laugh. “H-hey… It’s fine, right? It’s all water under the bridge now. I traveled with you for how long? Don’t think for a second that I’d have forgotten how absorbed you get in books.”

“Oh.” Cyrus looked back to Tressa, straightening his posture. “Speaking of travel, what brings you here?”

She looked back at him. “What?”

“Traveling and such. Are you looking for more treasure or something?”

“Uhm...”

“It’s just… Well, it’s been quite a long while. I can’t imagine that you came here just to catch up with me of all people, flattering as that may be. Surely you must be busy with being a successful merchant and all.” He let out a gentle laugh, crossing his arms.

“Well…”

He wasn’t exactly wrong. Then again, not all of the professor’s deductions were blown out of proportion with the most obscured scenarios. Sometimes they hit a little too close to home, if not right on the money. She had been busy, yes. That much was true. Her family’s shop had been flourishing since she returned. However, with the years that passed by, there was something much more important she needed to do. It couldn’t wait any longer. The girl shifted on her feet, appearing nervous, if not uncertain. How should she bring it up to him?

Looking up, she stole a glance before looking back at her feet. How could someone like him be so oblivious?

“I suppose you might say that…”

Cyrus’s eyes light up in curiosity, his head giving a slight tilt and a hum equally as curious at her change in behavior. “Are you ok, Tressa?”

She reached for a hand, taking hold of it. “Hey, can we… go somewhere private?”

The professor’s brows furrowed, worry lacing the corner of his dark eyes. It was rare to see his companion act in such a way, especially given her usual nature. Still, he agreed without hesitation, offering her a reassuring smile and a gentle nod of his head. He hated nothing more than seeing his friends uncomfortable. Well, except maybe seeing damage done onto books, but that was a different matter at hand. 

“But of course, Tressa. I’ll show you to a room right away. Follow me.”

Tressa bowed her head, following as he held her hand back. She felt bad for having to go this far just to reach out to him, but who else could she turn to? Cyrus was the only one she knew with the kind of experience she needed. When she glanced up to him once more, he pulled her into an empty study, shutting the door behind them. 

“You have me worried, Tressa.” He turned to look at her. “Are you sure you’re alright? Can I perhaps get you anything to drink?”

“Well…” Her feet carried her over to a table as she took a seat. “You asked me earlier why I was traveling.”

Cyrus nodded firmly, walking over beside her. “I did, yes. I know you’ve been plenty busy. The people in town have been speaking quite highly of Rippletide since you returned home.”

“Well, the thing is... I am looking for something, actually.” Her gaze fell to the table before her, stomach growing heavy. “But it’s not exactly… feasible, I should say. Not with the volume we’ve been getting in sales. I just don’t have the luxury at the moment to close up shop and go out searching for it by myself, much as I would like to. Ma and Pa already have their hands full. You’re the only one I’m really able to turn to for this.”

She looked at him, watching as he drew up a hand to his chin, the gears already beginning to turn in his head. A sigh of relief left from her before she continued. It really was good to see he was still the same person from back when they first met.

“I suppose it would be easier if I handed you this instead of explaining everything...” 

“Hm?”

His eyes lit up as she reached into her bag and pulled out an envelope, passing it his way.

“A letter?” His voice rang in question. He flipped it over, observing the wax seal and the fine lettering. Whoever had prepared it certainly took their time with making it presentable. It must have been something of high importance. Perhaps a request from royalty? But who would…?

His stare fell back to Tressa.

How did she obtain this? It was not her handwriting, and certainly not her family’s. ‘least he’d not suspect it was. Was it perhaps someone from Rippletide? No. The penmanship looked all too familiar, yet he failed to figure out who. He was certain he had seen it somewhere. Ah, but the years that passed were all a blur now, mixed in with all the knowledge he had obtained in between.

Tressa gave a nod to his question, encouraging him to read it.

“Whatever could this be…?” He muttered, opening it.

She watched at first as his eyes scanned the document, seeing the thrill of excitement build up with each word skimmed over. She waited patiently, giving her feet a gentle kick as she sat in a chair that was just a bit too tall for her.

When he finished, he cleared his throat, neatly folding the letter back into the envelope and tucking it away into his vest.

She looked to him as their eyes met once more.

“Well, Tressa…”

“Is it… something you can do?” She asked meekly, twiddling her thumbs.

He gave another reassuring smile, reaching out to gently pat her on the head. “But of course. What kind of friend would I be to refuse? You traveled all this way just to seek assistance. I’d be honored to help.”

Tressa clasped her hands together, letting out a delighted laugh and a smile before throwing her arms up in the air. “Hooray!” She jumped up from the chair. “Thank you so much, Professor!! I knew I could count on you!”

 

~

 

A groan fled from his lips as Cyrus began to come to, his once heavy eyes now slowly fluttering open. 

“Where… am I?” He breathed, staring up to the cathedral’s grand ceiling. 

Hand-painted night skies complimented by golden trim and glittering stars left him to second guess if he were still asleep or not. The line between dream and reality grew thin as he went to sit up, alarming the two siblings who remained in the room, their chairs sliding back against the floor as they stood abruptly in response.

“Professor!”

He looked to Ophilia, his sudden confusion melting into a humbled smile. That’s right, he thought to himself. He had arrived at the cathedral just prior to blacking out. Luck had at least been kind enough to see him through the bitter cold and into someone else’s care.

“Ah… Ophilia. What a pleasant surprise this is. Either I am still dreaming or the Sacred Flame has deemed me a lucky man to see such a beautiful face first thing when waking.”

“Eh?!” Ophilia froze, blood rushing to her face as her sister let out a laugh.

“Professor Albright, is it?” Lianna chimed in, walking to the bedside. 

Cyrus looked to her. Memories trickled back to him as he tried to place them to the familiar face. 

“It’s a relief that you wake. The Sacred Flame was kind enough to guide you to our care, it seems.” The priestess drew her hands toward her chest and gave a humble bow of her head before meeting the Scholar’s curious gaze. “My sister was worried of your condition, as the Frostlands aren’t exactly kind of travelers this time of year, regardless of how prepared they are. Ophilia refused to leave you to rest alone, insistent that she stay by your side. I’ve no doubt she has many questions as to your sudden arrival.” She smiled, turning to her sister. “I was actually just about to go retrieve a blanket to cover her in. Neither of us were sure when you’d wake.”

“Anna!” Ophilia gasped, looking to her, face still bright from embarrassment.

Cyrus slowly rubbed the back of his head, letting out a soft laugh as his eyes fell on the sheets he had been covered in. They were soft, and warm, crafted from the finest furs the Woodlands could offer.

“Of course she would,” He began, his voice soft. “I’d expect nothing less of her. Ophilia has always been like that. Since the day we first met, and up through our final days of travel together…”

Ophilia bowed her head, biting her lower lip and gripping gently at the sheets beneath her hands. Hearing such things spoken as mere memories hurt, but what hurt the most was hearing _him_ speak of them. You could hear the joy, the sorrow, the pain… Everything. She felt her chest grow heavy, her heart still longing for the days of travel with everyone and wishing they had never come to an end. She missed her friends dearly. But, she also missed…

Her eyes fell on Cyrus.

“It’s good to see that she hasn’t changed.” He looked to her with a smile. “Of the many times we did reckless and stupid things, or even the dangers we faced, in the end it was always her and Alfyn looking out for us. We always burdened you with worry, Ophilia. But…” His gaze fell back on the sheets. “At the same time it was a nice relief; to always have someone so kind and understanding at your side, to always have that bright smile there and someone to cheer you on, to reassure you that what you’re doing was the right thing, and that we’d all make it through whatever obstacles we faced—Together… I’d like to think we were able to make it through _because_ of you, Ophilia.”

Cyrus direct his attention back to Lianna, smile still present. The more he spoke, the redder Ophilia’s face became, the priestess silently pleading for him to stop. She couldn’t bear the thought of any more compliments; she was practically drowning in them.

“Though years have passed between us, to this day I’d like to believe her kindness remains unmatched, her heart still warm as ever. I would dare so much to speak that she is the Sacred Flame personified, and the only one who would ever truly know would be herself.”

Ophilia drew up her trembling hands, looking from Lianna’s smiling face to Cyrus and then back to her sister’s again. She needed to change the subject away from her.

“A bold compliment, Professor,” Lianna remarked with a smirk, resting a hand on the side of her hip. “But one I cannot argue.”

“P-Professor... Lianna…”

Both Cyrus and Lianna looked to the flustered woman at his side, the man arching a brow.

“Yes, Ophilia?”

She took a deep breath, doing best to steady her frantic heart. Placing her hands back on the bed, she leaned in towards him. “I’ve been meaning to ask since you arrived out front the Cathedral… Why exactly did you come here?” As he drew a breath in, she quickly cut him off. “Your arrival was just so sudden, and unannounced – not that it is a problem, but…!” Her voice fell meek. “Please be honest with me.”

He let out a curious hum. “I would never be anything less than so with you, Ophilia. After all, you’re very much a dear person to me,” the man admitted. “I came here searching for something, actually.”

“Something?” She reiterated.

Gesturing towards his vest, Ophilia went to retrieve it. As she returned, her and her sister watched as he reached into it, pulling out a letter – the same one from his dream. 

“I received this a few days ago, from Tressa no less,” He explained, passing it to Ophilia. “She journeyed all the way up from Rippletide, seeking my aide.”

She turned the letter over in her hands, examining it carefully while wondering what exactly Tressa sought. Of the few who she still kept in contact with, the girl hadn’t wrote of anything troubling.

"Apparently there was this book that went missing, the start of an all too familiar case if you ask me. I had my fair share of questions mind you, but she knew little of the book itself, other than some vague correlation between Light and Fire. Without a solid lead, the only hypothesis I could draw up was that it was in regards to either magic, religion of the old world gods, or... even the Sacred Flame." Cyrus let out a soft sigh, bowing his head in utter disappointment.

Frown dressed both Lianna and Ophilia’s faces as they exchanged looks.

“A book of the forbidden arts? Or, a novel containing dangerous information not to be taken lightly by whoever’s hands it falls into.” Cyrus looked to either of them. “I believe this to be the reason why Tressa came to me. The whole situation sounds pretty similar to when I first set out, you of course knowing this, Ophilia.” He looked to the blonde, gesturing a hand her way. “I’d like to assume it to not be a dangerous book, but without anything concrete to go by, I can’t chance it. Not after the last one. And thus, how I ended up in Flamesgrace.”

Ophilia looked up to him, blinking.

“The only thing I really have to go by is that it was located some place cold. Cold had probably meant the Frostlands, which… is to how I drew my assumption that it could be in regards to the Sacred Flame. I had hopes you might know something of this.”

“Um… Professor?”

Confusion laced his brows. “What is it, Ophilia?”

“Um… The writing on this…” She turned it around, averting her gaze. “It’s all scribbles… How on earth did you figure all of that out? Are you certain you are well?”

“Can you not read it?” He asked, blinking.

“It um…” Ophilia passed the letter back to him, bowing her head in embarrassment. “The penmanship is rather poor… I’m sorry, Professor…”

Cyrus let out a laugh, folding it back up into the envelope. “That’s quite alright. Being a teacher, part of my job is to be able to read all sorts of penmanship, the legible and… the questionable. Regardless, the book is out here somewhere. I just simply have to find it.”

“Forgive me for doubting you, Professor, but are you certain this is not a wild goose chase?” Lianna chimed in. “Being members of the church, this is not a book Ophilia nor myself have ever heard of.”

He leaned back against the headboard, letting out a soft hum. “Why would someone pull a prank such as that?”

“Well…” Ophilia thought back to the condition he had shown up in. Being out in the cold wasn’t exactly the safest. “I have my fair share of concerns…”

“There is no need to worry, Ophilia. I’ll get to the bottom of this, be it prank or a genuine request. There’s no way I can let Tressa down.”

Lianna walked over to her sister, placing a hand on her shoulder. “How about we get him some food first, and then the two of you can discuss this and reminisce a little?”

Looking to her sister, Ophilia gave a reassuring smile. “That sounds wonderful, Anna. I’m sure the professor is hungry.”

“Then allow me to fetch some.”

Cyrus looked curiously from one to the other.

“Are you sure, Anna? He is my guest… I’m more than capable of taking care of him.”

She smiled back. “I am plenty sure, yes. Take some time to catch up.”

Ophilia bowed her head again as Lianna exited, taking a seat back at the bedside.

“Well, I suppose I should ask then how you’ve been doing, Ophilia. Things seem to be going well here.”

Her gaze remained averted from his, merely answering back with a small nod. 

“What about you, Professor?”

“Well…” He gazed up towards the ceiling again. “Things were pretty quiet. I was able to resume my teaching job, and continued to educate students equally. Much the same, I am able to continue my studies. It seems like the years have flown by, haven’t they? I’m… glad to see you’re doing well.”

Ophilia gave another nod. Maybe she should ask him, she thought to herself, having been granted an opportunity alone. As she drew a breath in, ready to speak, Lianna reappeared with a tray, a bowl of steaming soup balancing on it.

“Goodness, such service,” Cyrus exclaimed. “You needn’t bring it to me. I am not sick. Simply being guided to a table would have sufficed.”

Lianna waved about a hand. “Nonsense. You could have suffered quite a bit of frostbite had you not arrived sooner. You’re lucky Ophilia found you when she did. Please take the time to rest up a bit, Professor. You’re always welcomed here – not just because you are acquainted with my sister. We open our doors to all.”

He smiled, taking hold of the spoon and blowing at the creamy broth. “Is this what I think it is?” Cyrus mused to himself, taking a swallow.

“That depends what exactly you think it is,” Lianna replied, crossing her arms.

“Ophilia’s carrot soup?”

Ophilia’s face flushed at the two exchanging words, her posture stiffening. Compliments again.

“I’m impressed, though shouldn’t be surprised. I take it she made it while you two traveled?”

“But of course!” He exclaimed with excitement. “I could never forget such splendid flavor! It was better than any soup local taverns could dare offer! There were times we practically begged for her to make it.”

Lianna let out a laugh, stealing a glance at her flustered sibling. 

“Cyrus…” Ophilia breathed, drawing his attention. The atmosphere turned serious. “Did Tressa give you any other leads to go off of? In regards to the missing book, that is.”

Setting down the spoon, he gave her a stern expression, shaking his head in response. “I’ve very little information I’m afraid, other than it’s of great importance to Tressa. You’re certain a book of similar topics does not exist in the Cathedral’s library?”

Ophilia looked to Lianna who in turn shook her head.

Cyrus scratched at the back of his head before crossing his arms. “Would either of you by chance know of anyone in town who might know something? An older, former priest or priestess perhaps? Or, someone who used to work for the church given the topic is presumed to include that of holy magic?”

“None that come to mind,” Lianna admitted, frowning.

The gears in his head continued to turn. “Light and fire… some place cold… A book that’s missing and of grave importance, questionable value… It would have to be in regards to the Sacred Flame…” Letting out a sigh, the man stared down at the bowl of soup before taking another spoonful. “This is all so discouraging,” he mumbled. “Perhaps it really is nothing more than a wild goose chase…”

“I can see where you are drawing your conclusions, Professor,” Ophilia admitted looking to him. “However, even when you’re at a disadvantage, you never were one to give up so easily, always looking at the different probabilities of various outcomes even when the situations looked hopeless.” Garnishing a warm smile, she gently placed her hand on his. “There may be many loopholes right now, but please keep in mind that Flamesgrace is not the only town here in the Frostlands. Just because one option does not meet your hypothesis does not mean the same for the others.”

His eyes fell on her hand before looking up to her, the corner of his lips forming a warm smile. “Your optimism and encouragement was always so admirable, Ophilia. Thank you.”

“Professor, if I may,” the blonde began again. “Allow me to help you find the book.”

He raised a brow at her. “Don’t you… have obligations?”

Lianna smiled, crossing her arms and looking to her sister. There she went again, with that determined expression. “If you’re worried about me, Professor, I can handle things here for a while without Phili. I have before, remember? Worry not. Once she gets that look in her eyes, there’s no stopping her. You might as well just accept.”

Cyrus looked from Lianna and then again to Ophilia. He had seen that all to familiar look many-a-times, and it was a sight he never grew tired of.

“If it is something Tressa asked of you, then I must help! I could never abandon her in a time of need! She’s my friend too!”

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “There is no better company I could ask for. I would be honored to have you join me, Ophilia. Having two people is far better than one. And being familiar with the Frostlands, I’m certain you’ll be able to help us navigate far easier than I’m capable of.”

Ophilia’s cheeks flushed again before she withdrew her hand, marching towards the door with a nervous laugh following behind. The thought of her and Cyrus traveling together, just the two of them… Her heart wanted to explode. “T-then I shall go gather my things right away! We’ll head towards Stillsnow at dawn!”

Lianna let out a laugh as Cyrus tilted his head confused, no doubt in response to Ophilia’s silly behavior. While her sister knew what was going on, the professor remained in the dark as always. But his confusion was short lived as Lianna spoke, leaning in to his ear and whispering something shared only between the two of them.

“I’ve no doubt of your strength, but please promise me you will take care of my sister out there. She is all the kin I have left.”

The man looked to Lianna as she walked towards the doorway, resting a hand on it and looking back.

“Be gentle with her, and please return her back once you’ve found what it is you seek.”

With a nod, Cyrus then smiled back. “You have my word. And… thank you, as well. Your hospitality is greatly appreciated. Should you ever need my assistance for any given reason, if it is something within my capabilities, do not hesitate to reach out to me.”

Before leaving him to his meal, Lianna gave a nod back. “I will keep that in mind, Professor. Thank you.”

 

Outside the room, Ophilia leaned back against a wall, hearing her sister let out a laugh seconds before leaving. She shook the silly thoughts of fantasy from her head, more so the ones that made her heart flutter. This was serious, and she needed to be serious. She needed to be someone Cyrus could rely on to have his back should they walk into an ambush. Shutting her eyes, Ophilia breathed a small prayer, hoping to pull strength from her friends; to be clever like Tressa, to be strong like Primrose, and to be calm like H’annit.

Lifting her head again, she then scurried down the hall. The sooner she had packed some things, the sooner they could leave. Once the sun kissed the horizon, the venture towards Stillsnow would begin.


End file.
